Atama Singha -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Sikhs -- India -- Punjab -- History -- Fiction
faith of his fathers, the faith learned on his mother's knee. He, who,
increasing knowledge, discerns the different degrees of darkness that
characterize our religious theories, and chooses for himself one from
among them, increases his soul's sorrow, for our light is darkness, and
God is not to be found for searching. "It is not by our feet or change
of place that men leave Thee nor return unto Thee." The quietness of
habit is more conducive to spirituality than the progress whose gain is
so infinitesimal, and whose heavy price is the destruction of the habit
of faith. It is better to believe a falsehood than to doubt a truth. The
habitual attitude of the soul, its upward gaze is more important than
the quality of the veil through which it discerns the Eternal. During
the days when Atma lived without the religion which was so mortal that
it died in his heart because he found that its friends were false, he
knew God, for this veil was removed, and when the weakness of human
nature again demanded the support of habit and formula, he turned to the
mystic rites and prayers endeared and hallowed by association, but he
knew now that God is a spirit, for spirit with spirit had met. A
silence, born of great reverence, rested upon him, and he no more
clamoured to save the world. The fall of the Khalsa no longer meant the
downfall of God, and in time even the heartache for the vanquishment of
his early dreams disappeared.
And the memory of his love? Love is transient, but frozen lips and
closed eyes can speak with a power unknown to the living, and the power
abides to a longer day than the living voice had controlled. And so the
night of his mourning was long, but the longest night has a dawn, and it
seems to me that the saddest thing I can say in ending my tale is that
the morning dawned and grief was forgotten. It is sad that we forget
joys; it is sadder to forget sorrows.
And so this story of religion that called itself heavenly, and love that
was most mortal, is over. Atma had had of earth's most beautiful things,
"O Love, Religion, Music--all
That's left of Eden upon earth,"--
but no--Love and Religion are not left.
THE END.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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